The Blue Butterfly Tattoo
by Canon-Bell
Summary: -"Another dream," Max whispered to herself. These dreams haunted her, taunting her with a life that could have been. They weren't simply visions. It was as if she slipped into a parallel portal of another timeline.- A story of Max struggling between her reality and dreams as she attempts to overcome Chloe's death. Rated M for mature language themes and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any Life is Strange or Square.

After the Last Chapter of Life is Strange, I had this story stuck in my head and had to write it down. Enjoy the first chapter. More chapters are soon to come.

Rated M for later chapters involving mature themes language and sexual content

* * *

Max was nervously pulled into a tattoo parlor by her more adventurous blue haired half, Chloe. They had laid around half dressed many nights in hotel beds on their road trip down from the destruction, tracing their fingertips upon each other's skin, making imaginative marks of where and what their matching tattoo should be, leaving trails on goosebumps and prickled hairs. It was Chloe's idea to get one, a symbol on their connection and all they had gone through together. It was Max's idea of a blue butterfly, cliche and girly for most, but to them it was the mark of their destinies intertwine. It would also be an in memoriam of everyone lost in the Acadia Bay tornado, although it felt like such a vain and feeble tribute.

In the morning after sunrise, the golden hour, when they held each other close, they debated on location. Chloe laughed at Max's absurd idea of the lower back. ' _There is no way in hell I'm getting a tramp stamp.'_ And Max would argue that she didn't want it to be in a visible place. Chloe on the other hand was adamant about the left wrist or upper arm. They would playfully tease and tickle, pushing back the pain of Max's destructive decision to stay in the present and fight the storm. They settled on the left back shoulder. Max never took this plan seriously, she simply enjoyed feeling the energy that left Chloe's fingers and transferred onto hers as she laid topless.. It was a half thought, a daydream, one of many unfollowed through plans to come. However the second night in San Francisco Chloe somehow got her in the parlor. Max begged for Chloe to go first, but Chloe did not want her chickening out after she was already branded.

Max removed her shirt and laid down on the bed. She winched when she heard the buzz of the machine. To her surprise it didn't hurt as much as she braced herself for, just a discomforting burn, something she could easily handle after all the physical tolls of time travel and her torture in the dark room. Still, tears began to flow as Max remembered all those lost in the storm, her storm. She turned her head away from the tattoo artist and silently sobbed into the black plastic bed, trying her best not to fidget. Chloe, who was sitting in a stool, rolled over to her and brushed a thumb over her cheek. Max smiled a reassured smile seeing the her face, the one she sacrificed everything for, the only thing that mattered in this time and any others, her Chloe. She focused on Chloe as her mind's eye began to burn. Burnt red bubbles filled all around her until Chloe's face faded. Colors went to gray then black , and then nothing, no more sound, just darkness.

* * *

Max awoke alone in her dorm at Blackwell Academy. "Another dream," Max whispered to herself. She curled her legs close and sobbed into her knees. That was her fifth dream of Chloe. These dreams haunted her, taunting her with a life that could have been. They weren't simply visions. It was as if she slipped into a parallel portal of another timeline. They were so real she could feel the needle on her skin, Chloe's hand across her cheek. The dreams tore her wounds open and made her heart bleed for her best friend. In the waking hours she would try to suture her soul only to have it slashed open by her nightly illusions. As painful as it was, she longed for the places promised to her in dreams, where she could be with Chloe. And in the cold mornings when the realization of reality filled her room like the rising sun, making horizontal lines of yellow across her walls, she pushed her mind back into the darkness and chase the images only to find her dreams decayed, disappearing into the drips of daylight on her eyelids.

Max took out her notebook to write the most current dream down while it was still fresh in her mind.

 _Nov. 2- Chloe and I leave a destroyed Arcadia Bay. David gave us $10,000 cash in a metal lock box. 'Sometimes into good to have a paranoid stepdad', Chloe said. David told us to start a new life, just don't spend any money on drugs. Chloe embraced David and told him she loved him and will be back after some major soul searching. The dream faded as soon as we passed the Acadia Bay sign._

 _Nov 5- Chloe and I stopped in Portland to see some punk show she was looking forward to. I felt like a poser in my simple t-shirt and jeans, but Chloe totally fit in. True to her word, Chloe doesn't spend a penny on weed or booze. It was nice to see her clean and having fun. She danced like crazy. It was a blast. Some creepy guy with a bad dye job and sloppy pants invited me back to his place. He wouldn't leave me alone, so Chloe came up to me a kissed me until he did. I'm not sure if it was for show or for real, but it was nice to have her protection. After the show we were too tired to find a hotel room so we crashed in the bed of her truck. The dream ended as Chloe took my hand in her as we watched the stars in the night sky._

 _Nov 10- Chloe and I were driving down the coast. We fought over music. She called mine slow indie shit that would make her fall asleep at the wheel and cause us all to die. I argued her angry punk songs would throw me into a Hulk-like rage. We settled on some classics like The Smiths and The Cure. We talked of our plans, or lack thereof. 'Down the Coast and then Beyond!' was Chloe's mantra. In my dreams I have no fear for the future. I feel safe and strong when I am with her. Images went to red to black as I started out the window watching the hills in the distance._

 _Nov 13- Chloe and I crashed in a shitty motel somewhere on the Oregon state line while her truck was being fixed. Chloe braved the creepy ass truck stop for some food. She came back with Hostess cupcakes, Bugles and a disposable camera. She handed me the camera and told me it was better than nothing, since I lost her Dad's Polaroid in the storm. She told me San Fran would probably have some hipster store I can buy a real one at. Without thinking, I tried to kiss her. She flinched and we fell down on the bed. She apologized and said she was not used to people attacking her with tongue. Then, with her on top of me, she gently pressed her lips on mine. We laid there on the bed for a long time eating food, making witch fingers with Bugles like we used to as kids. We looked at maps and made half-assed plans about cities and tattoos. The outdated alarm clock clicked to 6:00 am and the dream faded._

Max turned to a blank page and wrote down her latest dream. At first she was writing down facts and places, then emotions took control as the pen scribbles across the page and she choked on more sobs. She didn't want to lose these fleeting feelings for the figment of her passed friend. Tears stained the notebook as she finished her entry;

 _I am falling in love with Chloe Price._


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is a bit slow, more of a set up. Thank you very much for reading. Story will pick up soon.**

* * *

After restlessly trying to close her eyes and sleep in for the remainder of the morning, Max brought her bones to stand. Her body felt heavier with every breath and she envisioned herself simply sinking into the mattress and leaving only an imprint behind. Getting out of bed was a chore. Being fueled by sleeplessness and self-pity left her skeletal, a walking cadaver. She groggily stepped her way to the showers. As she disrobed she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, gaunt and pale. She hadn't had an appetite since Chloe died and it was starting to show in her protruding back bones. She turned slightly to look at her back left shoulder. She half expected to see a tattoo of a blue butterfly. She could still feel the burn of the needle. Her shoulder was bare and Max felt the harsh reality. She turned the water on for the shower and felt it go from cold to warm to hot before stepping in. Max mindlessly went through the motions until she was almost ready for the day.

Back in her dorm, Max shifted through the clothing pile on the floor. She found a passable pair of jeans but all her shirts were soiled. Laundry was the last thing she wanted to do. Max took a deep breath and opened her closet door. A few t-shirts hung sadly in the back behind a pristine black Christian Dior dress. Victoria had been the first to return home after the incident and Max wasn't able to return the borrowed dress before Victoria vanished. The dress must have cost over a thousand dollars but Victoria didn't seek it out before she left. Maybe it was chump change to Victoria, Max thought, or maybe a parting gift. Max remembered the last time she saw her.

* * *

"Please tell me you are not wearing that to your friends funeral," Victoria scoffed in her usual way. Victoria's door was open as she was packing her dorm into boxes when Max walked out with a torn black knitted top and black skinny jeans.

Max glanced at her outfit, thinking Chloe would appreciate the grunge aspect. Besides, this was a step up from her hoodie she wore to the wake."It's the only black I have..." Max replied a bit bothered. Victoria stood in her doorway with her arms folded looking like her classic model self, aside from her swollen red eyes.

"No, no no, come here," Victoria pulled Max into her dorm and went to her closest, unzipping garment bags in search of something in particular. Max thought Victoria would have movers, but guessed she was as controlling as she seemed, not wanting other people messing with her belongings. After a few moments Victoria let out an exclamation. She pulled a crisp black dress from a bag and insisted Max put it on right away. When Max hesitated, Victoria sneered as she spun around towards the wall, "Don't worry it's nothing I haven't seen before." Max sheepishly stepped out of jeans and removed her sweater. The dress fit nicely, but Max couldn't reach the back zipper. "Here," Victoria went to her aid. Max felt her hands on her back, softer than she thought they would be, as Victoria slid the zipper up. "There," Victoria smoothed the fabrics of the dress down her sides, "That looks a lot bet-ter," Max could hear her voice break. She turned to see Victoria with her head in her hands, sobbing. "I'm so- I'm so sorry-" she cried. Max instinctively embraced her and Victoria collapsed in her arms. "I can't-I can't believe how blind I was. I didn't- I didn't know-" Victoria managed to say in between sobs.

"No, it's not your fault," Max reassured, remembering the evolution of Victoria in alternative realities passed.

"I can't believe Nathan-" Victoria cried into Max's shoulder. Max felt a metallic taste in her mouth when she thought about Nathan. Max swallowed her tears hard and reminded herself Victoria was a victims too, toyed with by Mr. Jefferson and now her friends is in jail for life. As much as Max was trying to be strong, she broke down as well with Victoria as they shared each other's pain. After several minutes, Victoria took a step back and looked Max up and down. "You know Max, you really should spend more time on your appearance. Maybe people will actually take you seriously." There's the bitch Max knew.

Max rolled her wet eyes, "You know if you stopped caring so much you could focus on being a real artist." They both laughed through the tears.

"I didn't really know her that well Max, but can you tell her I'm sorry?"

"Yea, Victoria. And thanks for the dress. I'll get it back to you once the service is over."

"You take care of yourself Max and, who knows, maybe we'll see each other in the art world one day," and with that Victoria went back to her boxes. When Max returned to her dorm after burying Chloe, Victoria's room was empty.

* * *

Max grabbed a green shirt from behind the dress and slid it over her head and headed out the door. Warren was waiting for her outside in the quad. He had barely left her side since Chloe's funeral, like a sad puppy who doesn't know what's wrong with his owner, so he pants and licks and circles aimlessly.

"So Maxamillion, are we going to class today?" Warren asked with a forced smile. For the past weeks Max had attended less than half of her classes, as was expected from her from the faculty. Warren had blown through countless tanks of gas driving aimlessly through Arcadia Bay with Max, instead of going to class. They went nowhere in particular with little conversation, listening to music and ignoring the present. Max didn't want his grades to suffer, but she really needed someone to lean on. Besides, every student was basically getting a 'free pass' this semester due to the school shooting and the incident with Mr. Jefferson. Max had a guaranteed 'A' from her photography class, which was cancelled until next year. The school had a reputation to withhold and decided not to postpone any curriculum. Still many students returned home, most the request of their parents who felt the school unsafe. Max's parents advocated for their daughter to come home, but Max insisted on staying. She told them she needed to remain close to Joy in her time of need. Truth was she just couldn't leave Arcadia Bay, the place she sacrificed so much to protect. She didn't want to lose her memories of Chloe. She didn't want to lose her dreams. So she stayed, walking in a nightmare with ghost all around her.

"What do you think Warren?" Max replied.

Warren jingled his keys. "My carriage awaits you princess."


	3. Chapter 3

I am very sorry for the holiday hiatus!

I hope never to take this long between chapters again. Thank you for your patience.

* * *

"Let me see it again!" exclaimed Chloe, tugging at the zipper of Max's hoodie.

"Whoa Chloe hold on. Let me at least close the door," Max said, moving to shut the door to their motel room, first locking the top chain, then the bottom lock and finally securing their privacy by shutting the musty burgundy velour drapes.

"Come on princess, let me see your first ink!

Max gave a coy smile as she shuffled her feet toward Chloe while disrobing her hoodie. Max still felt a bit of the radiance of her rebellion from receiving her first tattoo and was dizzy with delirium.

"And the shirt," Chloe demanded.

Drunk with adrenaline and full of flirtation, Max lifted her arms above her head as indication for Chloe to take it off herself. Max's heart fluttered to feel her friends fingertips brush against her stomach as Chloe took the bottom of her shirt in her hand. Max's eyes were blinded by cotton for a second, then welcomed by Chloe's huge smile. Chloe tousled her hair and Max blushed. "Well how does it look?" Max asked with a little jest.

"Hold still," Chloe said, moving behind her. Chloe hooked finger under Max's bra strap and pulled it down before carefully removing the saran wrap on her shoulder. "Hella-badass Max! Sweet, I hope mine's as good as yours. It's starting to dry out though. Can you can me the petroleum jelly from the bag?"

Max moved to where Chloe haphazardly tossed the plastic pharmacy bag on the motel bed. She sifted through boxes of hair dye, chapstick, razors and other various beauty products until she found the tub of Vaseline. Max handed the tub to Chloe and tilted her head to allow access to the tattoo, freeing her hair from the area. Chloe massaged a generous amount on her back shoulder in smooth circular motions. Goosebumps ran down Max's spine as she felt Chloe's hot breath on her neck. "Hella-badass," Chloe repeated, this time in husky whisper and placed a small kiss on Max's shoulder. Chloe wrapped her arms around Max waist and rested her head on hers. Max loved their height difference and how they fit perfectly together. It made her feel safe; it made her feel home, loved. Max knew when she tore up the photograph she loved Chloe. The only thing that mattered was being in her arms. It was friendship. It was love. And now it was a burning desire.

Max turned to face Chloe, still in embrace. They stood in silence, staring into each other's eyes. Max's heart drummed hard in her chest. She was sure Chloe could feel the resonance. Chloe leaned her head down and pressed her forehead against Max's. It was as if her powers were back, making time stand still. Max had no experience to go on, but followed her body's will as her hands went instinctively to Chloe's hair and removed her knit hat. She ran her hand through Chloe's tangles and stood on her toes to kiss her gently on the lips, first placing small pecks then deepening as Chloe pulled her closer. Her lips parted to feel Chloe's warm tongue touch hers followed by tender lips, then tongue again. It was a graceful dance. Max had only kissed one other person before Chloe, a boy when she was fifteen. She recalled it being abrasive, rough and wide, nothing like the sweet soft kisses of Chloe. She pushed her mind not to think of who else Chloe has kissed, but the curiosity stung in her mind as their mouths moved together.

Unknown to Max, while her mind drifted she was backing Chloe into the bed. Chloe tripped when the back of her knees hit the mattress, falling down onto the bed. "Whoa girl!" Chloe exclaimed, rising into a sitting position. "Come here," she said pulling Max into her lap. Max raised her knees onto the bed, straddling Chloe as their lips met again. Max's hand trembled and tugged at Chloe's tank top. Chloe helped remove the garment hastily and went back to Max's kiss. Their breasts pushed against each other as they mouths melted together. Max felt a audible moan escape her lips. Chloe had one hand around Max's waist, holding her steady in her lap, and another around the nape of her neck as she kissed down her jaw. Max arched her back in an aching thirst. Their jeans grinded together in lust and anticipation. Chloe's mouth moved down to Max's chest and her hand slyly slipped under Max's bra strap and released it.

This was the furthest Max had ever gone with anyone and she felt like she was floating out of her body. Chloe half picked her up and laid her down on her back on the bed. Chloe crawled on top of her, kissing her on the lips and working her way down from Max's mouth to her neck, collarbone and breasts. Max inhaled sharply as Chloe's tongue ran over her nipple. Max never expected to feel like type of pleasure for herself. She always heard girls gossip about it, but it never interested her. She accepted she wasn't as highly sexually driven as the other girls in her dorm, nor did it bother her. She kept herself busy with her camera, not sex. She never felt that need to be with a man in that way. But now, with Chloe, she felt nothing but an insatiable desire.

A warmth was stirred between Max's legs as Chloe bit softly as Max's nipple while caressing the other. Heavy breaths turned to moans. Chloe kissed her way back up to Max's mouth. Max's head was buzzing as she floated further out of her body in a transcendental state and she kissed Chloe back hard, as to anchor herself to this moment. Their kiss intensified with every breath into each other. A twinge of nervousness hit Max when she ran her hand over Chloe's bra. She had never taken off another girl's bra before. Since Chloe undressed her with ease and charm, Max felt novice. Her heart raced as her fingers fumbled at Chloe's clasp. ' _Come on,'_ Max internally yelled at herself and attempted again, this time making a loud snapping sound. The clasp remained in place. Chloe's mouth curved into a smile against Max's and let out a little laugh. Max's heart sank a bit when Chloe dominantly raised herself to a sitting position over her. Chloe reached behind her and removed her own bra, throwing it clear across the room.

"Those things are a pain in the ass," Chloe quipped, giving Max the much needed reassurance. Max's nervousness evaporated as she drank in the beauty that was semi-nude before her. Chloe was absolutely breathtaking, smooth pale skin like the moon. Max admired the petite curve of her breasts, slightly larger than hers, but didn't make her feel inadequate. Out of all the storms, abductions and time jumps, having a topless Chloe in front of her was the most unbelievable sight. Max more than ever wanted her powers relive this moment over and over. "What are you looking at?" Chloe asking, teasingly covering her chest with her arms. "Are they really that bad? Not all of us can have perfect little tits like Max Caulfield."

As much as Max wanted to tease back, only the truth left her lips. "You are beautiful Chloe."

Chloe dove to kiss Max's lips. " _You_ are beautiful," Chloe replied in warm whisper. Max's hands ran down Chloe's bare back as she took in Chloe's kisses, carefully as to not disturb her tattoo. Chloe moved her thigh in sensual motions between Max's legs. A moisture in Max's panties was building and she had to break their kiss to release a hard moan. Chloe gave an elusive smile and ran her hand down to the waist of Max's jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. Chloe slid her hand into Max's panties and Max suddenly became self aware. Anxiety filled her lungs. She had never been touched down there. She rarely touched herself. She hadn't had the best upkeep or hygiene lately and was fearful she was deformed. Max's head again was filled with worry of her inexperience and simultaneously saddened at Chloe's expertise. Chloe flicked her finger over an extremely sensitive area and Max inhaled. Max closed her eyes in attempt to return to the cloud of passion and feeling of ethereal pleasure. Her neuroticism battled her temptation. Chloe slid a slender finger inside of her as Max struggled to keep her mind in the moment, despite how great it felt, but the incessant questions bounced around in her insecure head like butterflies in a jar. ' _How did she get these skills?' 'Who has she been with before?'_ The heat of Max's heart felt a sharp pain of ice thinking of Chloe with other girls, especially one in particular. She was ashamed feeling jealous of a dead girl. ' _It might not even be Rachel Amber ,'_ Max attempted to assure herself and Chloe gently pumped a finger inside of her. ' _Maybe it was a random girl she met at a party.'_ Now Max was getting jealous of an imaginary attractive punk girl with tattoos and piercing, definitely not a Max Caulfield type. ' _Stop, Max, just stop thinking..'_ Max tried to push the pathetic thoughts out, but tears swelled in her eyes. She tried to wipe them away without Chloe noticing, but was in vain.

"Aw shit," Chloe said, pulling her hand from Max's pants. "I am so sorry. Did I hurt you? This this too fast? Shit, fuck." Chloe went to get up and retrieve her bra from far across the room. "I'm sorry."

"No," Max chuckled through the tears and grabbed Chloe's hand before she could leave the bed. "No, that feels _really_ good. I just-" Max's words were choked as more tears fell. She couldn't quite express why she was so upset. Max sat up next to Chloe on the edge on the bed. "I've just never-"

"Fooled around with a girl?" Chloe finished for her.

"With anyone really," Max clarified. "And like, you're so cool and confident about it." Chloe put an arm around Max and kissed her head.

"Well if it makes you feel better, this is kinda a first for me too, sort of..."Chloe trailed off.

"What does that mean?" Max replied, hoping she was the first.

"Well, I've, uh, never had sex sober." The word 'sober' sounded peculiar leaving Chloe's lips as she said it with a certain inflection. "I'm usually pretty wasted or high, or both," she explained.

This wasn't the answer Max wanted, but it was nice to hear. Max's mouth tasted like metal as she bit the bullet and asked the question that was still dancing around in her skull. "So, you've been with a girl before?"

"Yea, I mean mostly in drunken threesomes with some leftovers at parties. And a few times when Rachel and I were hella messed up, alone and bored," Chloe laughed. "She would always say it wasn't cheating if it was with a girl." Max felt the sharp sting of the truth she had known along, like poison in her veins starting at her heart and spreading all over her body as the words echoed in her head, Chloe was in love with Rachel Amber. Max would never be as amazing as Rachel. She was second and now only first by default. Max tried her best to swallow her tears but let out a small snivel.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that Max." Chloe held Max's hand as Max cried. "Hey, I'm not doing this because I'm bored. You know I care about you."

"But not like you cared about Rachel Amber.." Max said quietly, immediately regretting her distasteful words which were bitter in her mouth. She wished she could rewind that second. They promised each other never to bring up the dead.

"Max, no. It's not like that!" Chloe got on her knees in front of Max, still holding her hand, forcing Max to look into her eyes. "Listen Max, I loved Rachel. She was my best friend. She was there for me when my mom remarried. She was my light in a very dark time. I was going through a really rough time and she showed me new ways of life. She showed me how to live again. She was there for me when you weren't." Chloe's words would hurt if her eyes weren't so piercingly sincere. "And sex to Rachel was recreational," Chloe continued, "like any other fixes for her. Another drug, another escape. And it was for me too, until...now. Rachel was fun and free and I loved her for that. But, I wasn't in love with her. Not like this." Chloe kissed Max's hands and Max's cold tears turned to happy ones. "Come on, I wouldn't get matching tattoos with just anyone," Chloe said before kissing Max on the forehead. "You're my girl."

Chloe moved to the bed, taking Max in her arms, leaning against the pillows on the backboard. "So, you've never been with anyone?" Chloe asked after several moments of silence. Max rolled eyes at the question in half embarrassment. "I mean I thought you at least got to third base with that Warren kid."

Max laughed. "No why would you think that?"

"Awe poor kid, you friendzone him so bad. The guy takes a beating for you and you can't give him a pity blow job? Chloe remarked with a vexing tone. Max frowned in guilt. "I'm kidding, Max! I know he's not your type. Not now that you're all lesbian lady crazy." Chloe went to jab for a tickle on Max's ribs. "Kidding again!" Chloe related.

"Honestly, I've never really gave it any thought. I mean I like guys. And Warren's nice… I just never gave it too much effort. And it guess I didn't realize I was into girls until we reconnected. I mean, I always looked at girls like 'wow, she's pretty.' I thought every girl was that way, like I was admiring their beauty. Like maybe I was thinking they would make a great photograph or something. Girl's bodies are artistically aesthetically pleasing or something. Ugh, I don't know," Max said, feeling flushed and wanting to put head in the pillow. "Then, seeing you after all these years, I was like, wow, she's amazing. I wanted to be near you and I wanted to be you. I had never felt that before, such admiration. And after all those times fighting for you and saving you, I realized I love you, not just...as a friend." Max's cheeks were a deep crimson now. "I don't know, I guess I'm bi-curious? Bisexual?"

"Ugh, fuck that, I hate those terms. Screw those industry terms for placing people into boxes. Be who you are, love who you want, fuck who you want. God, it's just-" Chloe stopped mid rant in realization of Max's words. "Wait you love me?" Max smiled bashfully as Chloe crawled on top of her again. "Well, I want to love who I want, and fuck who I want." Max felt herself stir again. "Max?," Chloe questioned in whisper. "Do you want to be with me?"

"Forever," Max breathed back.

"I want your first time to be amazing. I want you to remember it and I want it to mean the world. And just so you know, I'm nervous too," Chloe said before giving Max a soft deep kiss. And, like before, this time with no neurotic thoughts bouncing around in her head, Max let out a pleasurable moan as Chloe kissed her way down to her chest, then further down her torso, and then hips. Max leaned her head back on the pillow and the walls began to peel red and black.

"No!" Max cursed to herself. "Not now, please, please let me stay a little longer." Her pleas were denied as the room bubbled. The cheap velour curtains burned to ash. The plaster of the walls broke apart and crumbled. She clung to Chloe's hair in a feeble attempt as the dream was pulled away from her. "No…let me stay..."

Max awoke clutching her pillow. Her love once again was ripped away from her. The world was dull, colorless and cold. The real world. "Damn it," she swore. There would be no tears this time. Max felt a certain complacency laying in bed, tracing her lips with her fingertips, remembering every detail which transpired in slumber. After several moments of cradling her pillow, Max gathered her blood and bones to make her body move into the daylight. She strained her eyes to her phone; 2:17pm and three missed calls from Warren. She knew she was out for awhile, but had no idea it was afternoon. It looks like she would be missing class again.


	4. Chapter 4

My apologies for taking a long time to get new chapters uploaded. I recently took on another job, which isn't leaving much free time.

Hopefully Life is Strange fans are used to waiting long times for new chapters :)

Thank you

* * *

The dreamless nights were passing by with empty promises and Max was feeling like a jilted lover. The first night her and Chloe made love, she went to bed with a smile, clutching her blankets tight in anticipation of seeing her love again. Then, nothing, just blank space. At first its was okay, her dreams were never back to back and she had patience. 'If not tonight then the next night,' she would tell herself. 'I will see her again,' became her nightly mantra, yet the nights drew nothing but desolation. Her dreams were barren and her diligence was disappearing. Her passiveness and turned to depression. The nights were dark and the days dragged. She passed her time with Warren and his endless movie marathons from the cult classic collections and B rated horrors. When the sun would finally set, her anxiety of the places promised in sleep would rise and the act of actually falling asleep became more difficult. Some nights she couldn't sleep at all. On the nights where she did drift away for a few hours at a time she saw nothing but darkness. Max felt abandoned. She stubbornly refused to get out of bed most days. Warren consistently called her until she answered, breaking her away from the isolation. She both loved and hated him for that. Max clicked like hands of a clock, around and around, stiff monotonous movements, making her way through the day. She missed Chloe every single second.

After a little over a week, insomnia fully kicked in and sleep became impossible. Max went to the local pharmacy and bought every sleep and cold medicine she could find. Starting with the recommended dosage she did sleep, but only for hours at a time, and still only darkness. Upping the dosage only caused longer dreamless sleeps. Fearing on a overdose of her pharmaceutical cocktails of pills and cough syrup, Max threw the medication away. She laid down on the bed to think of her next move. Starting at her spotted ceiling she let herself realize the answer she had been holding in the back of her head, her only choice, her next destination, the junkyard.

* * *

Frank Bowers had moved his RV from the parking lot of the the Two Whales Diner to the junkyard shortly after Rachel Amber's body was discovered. Max wondered why Frank would stay here, not just the junkyard but Arcadia Bay after the murders. His house had wheels and he could go anywhere, away from the misery the murders left. The answer was the same as hers. They were both in love with a dead girl and were doomed to remain in town chasing their ghost.

Max was overwhelmed with emotions, fear, sadness, nostalgia, horror, cowardice and sickness as she stepped into the junkyard. The police still kept up the caution tape and signs even though it was no longer an active crime scene. Lately it and become a haunted destination for horror fanatics and rebellious youngsters on dares. Max swallowed hard, tasting iron as she remembered Rachel's decaying body in the shallow grave. Focusing her eyes on the RV in the distance, she fought the urge to explore the area and relive her non existent memories of Chloe. Max reminded herself as she approached the trailer that her current self had not yet met Frank in this life. She concocted a few lies in her head incase Frank asked questions. Who was she kidding, of course he would ask question and they would be loaded.

She took a deep breath and timidly took a step into the vicinity of his trailer. This was her only way to see Chloe, she told herself. She had to do this. Her heart fell to her stomach when Frank ripped the rusty door open. "What the fuck do you want!?" Frank greeted with a screaming slur. "Get the fuck of my property!" Frank staggered out the door and landed with a limp, reeking of booze and sweat with a bottle in hand. Max froze as he looked her up and down. "Who the fuck are you? Let me guess," he circled around her like a predator, "You look like some Blackwell bitch. Well are you?" he placed a finger through Max's hair, playing with his prey "Are you some preppy ass Blackwell shit in need of some uppers to pass some worthless exam?"

Max opened her mouth but words proved hard to produce. The same fear that she had when she held a gun to him rushed over her. She remembered Chloe as her strength both then and now. "M-my friend Kate said you could help me," Max managed to mutter. She instantly regretted dragging Kate Marsh into her situation and wished she still had her rewind capabilities. In this universe Kate is still whole and pure. However, Max could not think of another connection and she desperately needed help sleeping. Moreover, Frank wouldn't believe that Max knew Chloe. Max flinched as Frank cupped her chin in his hand. He brought his face so close to hers she could feel his boozy breath.

"You tell that little chihuahua if she ever mentions my name again I will make it so she never ever talks again," he threatened. He yellow glassy eyes didn't blink as they penetrated into her. "And while you're at it, you tell all your stupid sluts that I don't deal with Blackwell fuckers ANYMORE!" His spit filled her mouth with the last word. His eyes closed and his sentences broke with his stare. "...those spoiled..sons of bitches.. psycho mother fuckers.." he cried, releasing his grip on Max. He raised his arms to scream obscenities into the sky. "AAhh! psycho _mother fuckers_!" Max could feel his pain with every yell, the anger that boiled inside. The knowledge that he supplied a drug that was his loved ones undoing must have torn him apart. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that one could have predicted Nathan and Mr. Jefferson sick sadistic intentions and actions. She wished she could scream too, to open her mouth and let all the hurt go, but simply stood stoically. "Fucking assholes fuck-AH!" he continued. After several uncomfortable moments, his screams softened into sobs and he collapsed to the ground. Pompidou ran from the inside of the RV to his owner. Her fear subsided watching Frank, childlike, crying hard and hugging his dog.

Max took a deep breath and pressed forward. She went to her knees and cautiously crawled to the pair. "I-" she paused on what to say next. With only the truth left she continued, "I loved Chloe," she said matter-of-factly. "I loved her and Mr. Jefferson and Nathan killed her."

Frank raised his head, yellow eyes now wet and red. "And how would a girl like you know a girl like Chloe?"

"We were childhood friends, best friends," Max replied. She moved to sit cross legged next to him.

"Max?" he asked furrowing his brow and focusing his eyes.

Her heart jumped to hear her own name as she shook her head 'yes'. "She… she mentioned me?" Max gleefully cried, warm tears falling down her face.

"Oh yea, all the time. She would get drunk and go on and on about stories of you two. I found it boring as hell but- ya know- drunk girls never shut the hell up," Frank chuckled before his face became serious again, lips pulling down into a frown. "So that fucking bastard murdered both of the women we love. Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, Max." He took a swig from the bottle and held it out as an offering to her. Max almost put her hand up in protest, but realized her environment and the fact that she was about to buy drugs from stranger who lived in a junkyard, a sip of alcohol was the least of her worries. She was going to break her substance abstinence sooner or later. The liquor burned down her mouth and and throat as she choked. Frank laughed at her, "Yea I didn't figure you for a drinker."

"Shut up," Max quipped back taking a even bigger sip from the bottle.

"Hey there don't drink all of it," Frank snapped the bottle back. He reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette. "You know I always figured that girl was a dyke," he said with the cigarette between in lips. Frank took long a drag and exhaled. "And as much as she talked about you I'd say she really loved you too." He took a drink and passed the liquor bottle back to Max.

They spent the next hour swapping stories, drinking and laughing. She learned new things about Chloe, things she regretting not experiencing with her. Chloe's transition into the blue haired punk. Chloe's first night getting drunk. Stories of pranks and nudity. For the first time Max was truly glad Chloe had Rachel Amber while she was away. Frank helped her connect the dots from the Chloe she left and the Chloe she returned to. Max's body warmed with the booze and she felt human for the first time in weeks. However, in the distance the sun was setting and the anxiety started again. "Shit, it's getting dark. I should really be going soon. I can come back sometime. I mean I would love to hear more stories," Max said, truly hoping they could meet again. Conversing with Frank made Chloe and Rachel alive again in the world.

"I don't think I'll be sticking around this town too much longer," Frank said with an exhausted sigh. He flicked a dying cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. "There's not much left for me, ya know. Business is drying up now that half of the students are gone," Frank explained. Max knew it wasn't the business, but was glad he was moving on, unlike her. "Oh, speaking of business," he said raising himself to stand, "What did you need?"

"I need help sleeping," Max explained. She stood and enjoyed the gravity of her drunkenness. Her bones felt like jelly, no longer hurting to move. She put her best efforts to standing still and straight. "I've tried everything I can over the counter. Nothing works. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I'm still so _haunted."_ Frank seemed to have understood her last work, as he agreeingly grunted upon hearing it. He silently sauntered into to trailer. After several minutes returned with a ziplock bag filled with blue pills and tossed them at Max. "Wow, uh thanks. What are these?"

"Eh just some Benzos. Take a few at night. They should do the trick. They are especially good if you have a nice stiff drink with them too. Here," Frank reached in his pocket and handed her a plastic flask of cheap vodka. She was glad to see more alcohol, wanting the intoxicating warmth to continue dulling her pain.

"Thank you! What do I owe you," Max said pulling her hand in her coat pocket to find her wallet. She hoped she had taken out enough money to pay for everything.

"Eh, don't worry about it girly. Think of it was a parting gift." He tousled her hair and turned to vanish like a ghost back into his RV.

* * *

Max dressed into her night wear in preparation for an eventful sleep. Standing by her desk, she poured a an inch of vodka into a cup and filled the rest with a exotic fruit juice she had squirreled away in her mini refrigerator. She mixed the cocktail together with a pen and took a sip. The drink tasted better than she thought and quickly chugged half the glass. She took a pill out of the ziplock and turned it in her hand. Frank called them 'benzo' and after a quick internet search Max discovered it was short for Benzodiazepine. By matching pictures, she found the particular pill she had was diazepam, in other words Valium. ' _Why couldn't Frank just say Valium_ ," Max thought. She felt relief is knowing the substance she was about to ingest, especially since it was prescription, not a random street drug, she convinced herself.

'Here we go," she whispered to herself. She placed the pill on her tongue and downed the rest of her cocktail. She pushed her stomach acid down and fought the urge to vomit. She made her way to her bed, aching to sleep and laid down. She didn't know how long it would take, but hoped it was fast. The effects of the vodka washed over her, calming her. After several minutes, maybe half an hour she was beginning to drift. Her insomnia was still battling in her body and pulsed inside of her, struggling with her induced sleep. Sleep eventually won and sedation sailed through her veins, relaxing her muscles and bones. Finally there was darkness which this time was finally followed by a light.

Max was back in the motel room, sitting on the disheveled bed. Max smiled ecstatically to be back and she clasped her hands to her mouth. How she had missed the grungy room. She could be anywhere with Chloe and it would feel like a palace. Suddenly, a pungent odor of chemicals hit Max's nostrils. She looked around the room and could not find Chloe. Her heart quickly panicked. "Chloe!" she immediately called out.

Chloe appeared, one foot out of the bathroom door. She was in the bathroom in just her panties applying hair dye. "What's wrong Max?" Chloe replied.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," said Max. Chloe smiled and returned to the bathroom sink. There she was, the love of Max's life. She was back.

"Fuck Max. I didn't think I have ever come that fucking hard in my life. I am like still buzzing after half an hour," Chloe shouted over her running water.

Max felt in herself as well the warm and wet satisfaction of sex. "Dammit, I missed it," she cursed to herself.

"Hey, Max!" Chloe shouted even louder. "I can't wait to see how your hair turns out. It's going to be freaking sweet!" Max brought her to her hair and felt a spongy wet patch on the side under her bangs. The smell of dye she experienced upon waking was from her own head. Max chuckled to herself. She always knew if she hung around Chloe long enough Chloe would eventually get her to do this. First tattoos, now hair. In typical Max fashion it was only a small streak. Max got on her feet, no longer feeling the inebriation of the waking world, but finding sobriety in sleep. Making her way to the bathroom, she noticed she was dressed in only her panties as well. She watch Chloe haphazardly apply hair dye, making a mess of the rented bathroom. Overwhelmed with love to see her again, Max hugged her tight from behind.

"Watch it! You're going to make me mess up," Chloe smirked.

"You're just going to cover it all up with your hat anyway," Max quipped back and kissed Chloe on the shoulder where her butterfly tattoo was healing. "Oh I missed you," Max breathed and fell further into the embrace.

"What are you talking about? I haven't gone anywhere? I've just been in the bathroom for like five minutes to get my dye in. Are you having attachment issues already Ms. Max?"

"Shut up," Max said into Chloe's shoulder. "I love you."

"You're such a dork," Chloe said as she ran her painted gloved hand through her hair with Max clasped tight behind her. After her hair was mainly covered, Chloe removed her gloves and flung them into the trash, staining the wall along the way. She turned to Max, wiggling herself around like a hula-hoop in Max's embrace. "I love you too." Chloe dipped down to kiss her. Max closed her eyes in anticipation to feel Chloe's warm lips, but instead felt nothing.

When Max opened her eyes she saw nothing at all, only blackness. She was slipping away again, being pulled down a dark tunnel. The rush felt like a roller coaster. Max awoke back in her dorm. It was still night outside and she refused to bring herself awake. Max shut her eyes and searched in the darkness for her way back into the dream world. She replayed the last millisecond she saw of Chloe leaning down for a kiss, over and over, hoping for her dream to pick up like a skipping record. She swam through the dark spaces and in between. Nothing. Cold, alone yet determined, Max brought herself to rise and shuffled her way to her desk drawer, fishing out another pill. She swallowed hard and chased the dry pebble with a sip a vodka. The burn felt good. Max sleepily smiled with her lips to the bottle before taking another drink.

Max turned to her bed and the smell of chemicals swiftly hit her again. She reached her hand to her head and felt the same wet patch as before. Bringing her hand down she saw her fingertips painted blue.

"We should probably wash that out now," a familiar voice spoke to her in the shadows. Max turned to see Chloe sitting on her bed.

' _Oh good, I'm back_ ,' Max thought. But something was not right. The bed Chloe sat on was not the motel's. They were in her Blackwell dorm. Max caught a glimpse of herself in a full length mirror. She was again topless with vibrant dye in her hair. She turned her shoulder to see her blue butterfly tattoo. Max left out a sigh of relief. She was in Chloe's world. She had to be. The drugs were taking an effect and Max ignored the logistics. She just wanted Chloe and Chloe was here.

"Come on chica, you're going to burn your hair off if you wait any longer," Chloe rose and held her hand out to Max, which she instinctively took. It was solid. It was real. She grabbed Chloe's hand tightly as they flew through the hall. Where her feet touching the ground? She looked down to see her bare feet step one over the other, but did not feel the floor. Max rolled her head to look around her. They passed white boards and doors. Max wondered how she could possibly be in Blackwell. Chloe's fingers interlocked with hers and she pushed away puzzling thoughts. They pulled themselves into the bathroom and Chloe immediatly stipped off her panties. While Chloe turned on one of the dorm showers, Max looked over her back shoulder again. It was still there, the blue butterfly tattoo.

"Come on," Chloe said from behind the shower curtain. "The water is warm my little otter." Max stepped out of her underwear and pulled the curtain, but there was no naked Chloe as she expected, just an empty stall and running water. "Get in here before your hair burns off!" Chloe's voice reverberated. Max frantically turned to find the location. In the bathroom mirror she saw herself and Chloe right behind her, under the water in the shower stall. Max turned again to the stall and Chloe materialized. Max fell into her arms, holding her tightly. "Woah girl are you feeling alright?" Chloe asked concerningly. "The fumes getting to you?"

"Don't...don't leave me," Max said, squeezing her arms to the point of strain.

"I'm right here Max. What's gotten into you? I won't ever leave you Max," Chloe said with wholeheartedness. "Look at me Max." Max released her grip slightly to look into Chloe's piercingly blue eyes. Her anxiety melted as she lost herself in the oceans of Chloe's irises. "I love you. I will be with you, always." The girls held each other as the stained teal water pooled around their feet. Max, refusing to let go of her love, felt herself being pulled again.

' _No…_ ' Max cried inside. ' _No don't leave. I don't want to go'_ Max fought as hard as she could, shutting her eyes refusing to see the world burn and flake around her. She still felt Chloe's warm wet body in her arms and the pressure of the pounding water. Chloe's voice echoed in the dark cavern of Max's mind.

"I will be with you, always."

Chloe's warmth was slipping away. "I will see you again, Max," Chloe said as she placed a kiss on Max's forehead. The dream was breaking. The falling sensation rushed over Max again as she was torn Chloe's arms. Max was traveling down the tunnel and Chloe's call chased her. "Max...Max.." Her whisper danced around her in the darkness like a siren's song. "Max...Max..Max.."

"Max!" a female voice shouted. "Max!" Max's head ached as she came to. her eyes struggled to to focus on the face in front of her.

"Chloe?" Max's voice croaked.

"What? No. Max wake up." Max's eyes adjusted to the florescent light and realized the face she was starting at was her dorm mate Dana. Max was on the floor of their bathroom dorm sopping wet. Her stomach churned hard and she proceeded to vomit the contents of bile, chalk and booze down the shower drain. "Jesus Max, I didn't know you partied this hard. I hope you didn't catch cold from the water running on you all night."

"Huh?" Max took in her surroundings. She was fully dressed in her pajamas and soaking wet. Cold and no hair dye, no Chloe. The side of her head was pounding. She must have hit it on the floor when she was ripped from her dream. Her sickness reached her lips again and Max opened her mouth to empty the remaining contents in her stomach.

"Shit girl. You are hungover. Come on," Dana reached under Max's arms and lifted her up to stand. The bathroom mirror reflected the real world this time. Max was colorless, inkless and skeletal. Dana supported her weight as the made their way to Max's dorm. Max felt the cold ground below her flightless feet as she struggled to place one over the other. After the tiresome trek, Max flopped on her bed still weak from sedatives. "Let's get you into some dry clothes," Dana said. Without hesitation Dana sorted through Max's drawers and pulled out a flannel set. Max was too faint to be shy as Dana stripped and clothed her. A strange sensation stirred in being so close to Dana. Max took in her perfumed scent and admired her low neckline, then immediately felt guilt followed by content in the understanding of her feelings for females.

"Why are you helping me," Max asked, barely bringing her parched voice above a whisper. They were not particularly friends. They had short conversations in the hallways and shared a few classes. Max had always thought her and Dana would get along. Dana had a fun geeky side, liking the same movies as her, but Max figured was 'too cool' for her.

"Oh come one, we have ALL had some rough nights. I know it's nice to get some help. I can't tell you how many times Juliet has carried my drunk ass home," Dana replied, pulling the cover up around Max. "Hey, well since you have bursted your straight edge bubble you should come to this party Hayden is hosting. Total Anti-Vortex Club shit, don't worry. His parents are going out of town for Thanksgiving and their house is huge. Everyone is going to put all the bad stuff behind them and party like we used to. It's going to be a blast. Please say you'll come, pleease," Dana begged. "And bring that boyfriend Warren of yours too. I've noticed you two getting really close lately, ditching class together, late nights," Dana's pitch rose when she mentioned Warren. "It's really cute. Have you made it official yet?"

Max was far too sick to argue her and Warren's relationship. She simply let out a low grunt and pulled the covers over her head. "Ugh, I feel like death.." Max mumbled beneath the sheets, choking on the smell of her own breath.

"Ha, okay I'll take that as a yes. Sleep it off sweetie. And I will see you and Warren Saturday." And with that Dana was gone, bouncing back to her dorm.

"Yea.. Sleep it off," Max repeated to herself. Max stretched out on the bed and thought of the recent events which occurred. Did she sleep? She saw Chloe, so she had to have been dreaming. But, Chloe was here, in Blackwell. Did she sleep walk? Were they on this plane of existence? And Max thought time travel was hard to understand. Her head throbbed to think of the logistics. Hey, stranger things have happened to her, she thought. She understood time and reality to be fluid and changeable. Time was more like an endless ball of yarn than the conceived straight line, twisting and turning, a forever overlapping sphere of never ending strings. But in this time she was powerless to the flow and felt lost.

Max's phone rang loudly and her heart jumped. It was Warren with his wake up call. As much as he did annoy her sometimes, she knew she needed him. Warren was her constant, while Chloe was her variable. He was her normalcy and she was her mystery. He brought her back from drowning in dimensions and depression. But today Max did not feel like being saved. She didn't want to be solid. She desired to stay dismantled. She clicked her phone to silent, stumbled to her desk, popped another pill and fell back into bed.

"Let's try this again," she said determined.

* * *

Thank you again! Sorry for the delay


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